I sat under the table in my small apartment as the ground shook, the windows rattled, and my stomach turned somersaults. It was one month to the day after the 1994 Northridge, CA earthquake, and although the aftershocks had significantly died down by that point, they were still occurring unexpectedly every now and then, just to make my life even more miserable than it was. It was also the start of Lent, a time I knew I should be more deeply... Read more